The Beauty of Mediocrity
by Asha-Rose18
Summary: Draco Malfoy was enraged when he was forced to go suburban and enter the public highschool of Cameron. And then he met her. And suddenly, Mediocre was not all ugly anymore. But some things remained, who was trying to kill him? and why? Rated T for now!
1. Chapter 1

The Beauty of Mediocrity

**CHAPTER 1**

It had been a day just like any other; A Tuesday, if Draco remembered correctly. He was strolling around the park with Harrison and Beaufort, whiling away the time, talking about the future and politics and their parents. That day was the day everything changed, so to speak, but while he talked and laughed with his friends, the thought never crossed his mind.

"_Father ought to put me in management when I get out of college, or else I shall be much disappointed" Harris took a sip of his Perrier, his thick brows pursed together in thought of just what he would do if he were not offered a managerial position at his father's corporation._

"_You? In Management?" Beaufort stole a glance at Draco, and they both laughed. Everyone knew Harris wouldn't even know the first thing about managing a business, much less managing a multi-billion dollar corporation. Quite frankly, what seemed to be his only purpose in life was to party and to woo the pretty girls that seemed to always get drawn to him. Not that it was any surprise at all, seeing as the three of them had extensive numbers of girls to date, even at the young age of thirteen._

_Harris threw them a dirty look "Well, at least I don't look at muck and goo all day, or do pretty much nothing at all"_

"_For your information, a treatment plant does not only look at muck and goo" Beaufort argued. Draco was quiet. And at once the two boys understood. Beaufort gave Harris a condescending look, making the other boy very ashamed of his mouth right then.  
_

"_Sorry Drake…my mouth acted on its own" Harris said, scratching the back of his head._

"_Don't call me Drake…" Draco muttered with some annoyance "It's a far cry from being a dragon to a duck, you know" and at once, the tension had faded, as Beaufort and Harris laughed at their friend. It was just like Draco to put more importance in his name rather than the more pressing matter at hand. He hated being referred to as Drake.  
_

"_Oh come on, we have to go back, Professor Winifred is up next" Draco and Harris shuddered. Winifred Brown was their Math Professor, and she was the meanest thing to have ever graced Prince Academy._

"_Yeah, I suppose so…" Draco said, and turned to leave. The next moments were a blur. Now, all he could remember was a gunshot, it whizzed right past where his head had just been. His hair swayed. Harris and Beaufort screamed and started pointing in random directions. _

_The gunshot hit a duck lolling in the pond, straight at its breast, and it died. Draco thought it was horrible, seeing that dead duck, its red blood mingling with its white feathers and the water below it. Next thing he knew Harris and Beaufort had dragged him out of the park. Harris was red in the face. Beaufort's suit was creased, and his forehead sweaty. They were still screaming. "Drake! Drake! You okay?"_

"_Yes, I'm fine, don't call me that!" he answered, but no one paid the second part much heed. They took a big breath when he said he wasn't hurt and immediately called the school, much to his chagrin. _

"_You shouldn't have called the school…" he muttered "I'm fine, really…"_

"_We _had_ to" was their response "because someone just tried to kill you"_

'Again' _he wanted to say. But he kept silent. One was bad enough as it was._

Draco sat quietly by his mother's side in the drawing room. Her hand was in his, which was rare. Opposite them, pacing in front of the large lit fireplace, was his father Lucius Malfoy. Although his face showed it, Draco was far from emotionless. He knew this stance of his father's. It was the same one as the time he had stolen out to meet Sofia in the dead of the night, and the time when he had eaten cookies before dinner when he was five. This stance always resulted in one thing, getting_ hopelessly_ grounded.

He knew just what was going to happen to him. He was going to get grounded and locked up in his room forever.

He was just considering whether or not Harris would take him if he ran away when Lucius finally spoke. "This is serious…"

Damn right it was. He was missed by a bullet—which should be lodged in his cranium right now had he not moved to leave when the perpetrator pulled the trigger—by just _that _much. He almost _died._ He almost ended up like the duck now floating upside down in the pretty little pond.

"Lucius…" his mother said by his side. One could only wonder what his mother really wanted to say because she did nothing more than bite her lower lip, smudging all the thick red lipstick she had on it. His father seemed to have understood though, as nothing more was passed between them. The cold grey eyes had already returned to him.

"Did you not see who did it?" his father asked coolly, but with a hint of mockery that one who knew him could plainly hear. Draco did, and he felt his knuckles tighten into a fist. But he showed nothing else.

"No" he responded just as coolly.

"Are you sure?" His father prompted. Blood rushing from his hand made him take notice of his mother beside him. She was looking thoughtfully at Lucius, sharing yet another conversation no one but them could ever hear. It was the perfect tool against eavesdroppers or sharp sons.

"Yes" he said again, looking away from his mother to his father. Narcissa Malfoy ran her fingers through his hair, which surprised him so immensely he forgot his anger for a while. He reckoned she was just that glad that there was no bullet swimming in his bloodstream then. Lucius had fallen back into his pacing, his eyes darting once in a while to his son.

"You don't seem very shocked at what happened" he said later. His mother had stopped touching his hair and had returned to clutching his hand.

He shrugged a response. As surprising as it may seem, he did not feel very shocked at all. Alarmed maybe, but not shocked. His friends had found it weird too, now that he thought about it. He just responded by saying '_My dad could afford bodyguards next time...'_ It did not convince them, he was sure, but they did not ask him again.

"I'm not…" he freed his numb hand from his mother's and stood up to leave. "Excuse me Mother, Father, but I have school tomorrow" he had already turned when his name was called yet again.

"Draco"

He dug his balled fists inside his pockets as he turned to once again meet the presence of his father "Yes?"

Narcissa had gone to Lucius' side, grasping his hand in hers as hard as she did with him earlier. Their faces remained blank.

"Your _mother_ and I have come to a decision which we feel would be the best for you" It was obviously his mother's plan to begin with, seeing how Lucius had emphasized the word mother at him. Draco frowned. Decisions were never good news when it came to him.

"Decision on what?" he asked, and tried futilely for once to read the unreadable expressions on his parents' faces. There was nothing to read.

"We've agreed to send you somewhere quite remote, and enroll you in a public highschool until we find the person trying to kill you" His father said coolly, but this time he did not bother to return it. Horror had etched in his face as soon as the last words were said.

* * *

_OKAY, if there are any questions, ask me :) I am actually quite proud of this. I hope I'll actually be able to add chapters to this. Signing out: Asha Rose_


	2. Chapter 1 Extension

The Beauty of Mediocrity

**CHAPTER 1 - PART 2**

"You're what!?" Draco had to take the earpiece off when Beaufort and Harris shouted in it at the same time. They were still talking now.

"Going to hide someplace for a while" it sounded wrong, even to his ears, so he didn't stop them when they started voicing out how wrong they thought it was.

"My fourteenth birthday's coming up!" Beaufort almost sounded like he was going to throw a fit, which he was, probably. "You promised to go!"

"I _am _going, Beau…" he rolled his eyes "I'm going to a different town, not another country, you can even pick me up if you want" _even if my father kills me himself afterwards…_he strained not to add. Beau was silent, which meant Draco's words had calmed him. Harris, though, was still talking.

"You don't have to go away…why not stay with me for a while?" He offered temptingly.

Draco sighed "I can't. Direct parents' orders"

They all sighed.

"Well, could you at least tell us where you're going off too?"

"No, they didn't tell me, and they'll be stripping me of my Cellphone by the time we get there" this gathered more sighs from the two, but nothing more could be done.

"Bring an extra phone! And don't tell them!" Harris said—well, more like ordered—on the phone. Beau seemed to be agreeing. Soon after they had said goodbye, saying that classes would be starting soon. Draco put down his. In the back of his mind, he was thinking of Prince. He should be in classes by then, had his parents not decided to put upon him the punishment of complete isolation.

"I hate this, Brida" he complained to his nanny, who was smoothing out the last of his clothes into his suitcase. Draco was not one for complaining, but for something so big, it was acceptable.

The old woman smiled and patted his hair. Only she could do that without eliciting a surprised response in return. "Nor I, Master Draco, but we cannot have everything we like all the time; that is not how life works"

"I don't like how life works…" he found himself muttering.

"No one does" was his nanny's reply "Cheer up child; if I have learned anything at all, it is that everything happens for a reason. Your parents sending you off may be the start of a new adventure"

"I don't think I— he stopped because at that moment, Weatherby, his father's butler, knocked on the door and entered.

"Forgive my intrusion, Master Draco, Brida" he said graciously with a slight bow at Draco "the jet shall be ready for you in ten minutes, sir. The Lord and Lady asks the both of you to be ready by then"

"Okay, I got it Weatherby" Draco waved him off.

"Thank you Mister Weatherby, I will be ready by the time" she nodded at the man and then turned to Draco to give him a low bow. He hated her doing it, but really could not do anything about it. Weatherby had bowed as well, and left the room immediately.

"Master Draco, you should be more gracious a master to dear old Weatherby" Brida scolded once the butler had gone.

"To my father's number one spy? I don't think so Brida" he threw in his favorite jacket, an eight-hundred pound gift from Harris, in the already full suitcase "Can't leave without it…"

"Of course you couldn't" he received another affectionate pat on the head, and accepted it easily. Brida folded the jacket neatly into his suitcase.

"I hate it when you bow down like that" he said later, watching her tuck in the last of his belongings and closing the suitcase afterwards.

Brida actually chuckled "like you said, Master Draco, _spy"_ and with a last, slighter nod, she left the room.

***

The ride that picked them up from the private hangar at the small airport was definitely not a limo. Nor was it a Mercedes or a Bentley. To Draco's horror it was a beat up old Ford that looked like it was a hundred years old. And it was a rental.

"_This _is my ride?" his voice was a mixture of surprise and chagrin.

"Yes master and these are your clothes" the serviceman in front said not unkindly " the family stylist sends her regards"

"I don't need new clothes" especially when those clothes looked barely presentable at all. Really, there was nothing more than a t-shirt, baggy faded jeans and sneakers. "I like the ones I'm wearing, and those I already have"

"Unfortunately sir, your luggage will not be brought out for you—your parents' orders—because the contents will not be necessary. There is already a suitcase waiting for you in the car"

"I don't even get my own clothes and belongings?" he wanted to shout and throw a fit. He wanted to punch and kick and scream. He wanted to—it shamed him to say—cry, but what he did was:

"Fine, say hi to my parents for me…hope they enjoy being childless, which they will, most likely" Brida had taken his clothes, so he dug his clenched fists in his pockets and walked to the car like he was walking to a Ferrari. They could laugh at how far he had fallen because he didn't care. Draco did not turn around to look again, so he did not see the expressions of pity on his helpers' faces.

"That was strong of you, Master Draco, not to lose it there" Brida said, doing her very best to keep in step with him, which proved very hard.

"I almost did" the driver ran to his side and opened the door as graciously as he can, which wasn't much. Clearly he had been paid well to be courteous. But, then again, who wasn't? He scowled at the man just like he had done to everyone else who had sent him off "I still _might_…"

He was on the verge. He really wanted to lose it then. They had left the hangar into open country, where everything looked so green and earthy and..._green._ The car really was old, as it creaked and choked through the whole trip. Sometimes, it choke so much Draco thought it would just die, but it trotted on, screeching and creaking as it took them nearer to their new home.

The trip was silent, save for the loud whezzing hum of the engine. They were passing through a suburban street then, with boring, identical beige houses on either side of the street. He had never seen anything so dismal before. "It's so…beige"

"I think it is quite peaceful to look at" Brida said in response, but he did not speak again until they reached their destination, which was a quarter of an hour away.

The apartment was a two-storey house divided into two parts: the upper and the lower rooms. It was, to his extreme dislike, as beige as everything else. Brida had already told him that they had rented the whole upper floor, and that he would be having the room on the farther side of the floor, the one that faced the street, so he had no trouble finding it at all. It wasn't very hard really. The whole floor was barely as large as the west drawing hall, a small room back at the manor. His room was about as big as his shoe storage. Although small, he noted that it was neat and polished so he did not brood about it very long. All the furniture was of a light wood, and all the sheets and curtains were white.

He immediately plopped down on the bed. His suitcase, an inconspicuous black one, was left unopened in a corner. He could hear Brida—who would be playing his _Aunt_ Brida—bustling about in the kitchen. His new clothes were still with her.

A little while later she entered his room after a soft tap on the door and a bow. "Brida, Aunts don't bow to their nephews"

She chuckled "Of course they don't, I'll take note of that" in her arms were his clothes "I pressed these for you, you will need to wear them tomorrow for school"

He scoffed at the clothes and did not take them, so she had to place them down herself.

"Such a long face"

"There's no reason to smile, so I won't" he muttered

Again, she chuckled lightly at him. "Maybe this will help a little. I saw it in the trousers when we were in the car"

He took the envelope. It was unsigned but for a transparent seal. A Prince Seal, he noted. "You _found_ it?"

"Yes, it was there when I looked earlier, but given the circumstance at the time, I did not tell you"

She was about to bow when he looked her down. It made her stop midway, stooped uncomfortably between bowing down and getting up. Finally, she thought better of it, and went back up again. "It will take some getting used to"

"Yes, and while you're at it, start calling me _Draco_ as well" he smirked at the indecision in her face.

"I'll try" she walked out "Dinner at seven, _Draco…_and bed at ten…according to your new schedule, classes start at nine tomorrow"

"Getting used to? You're a pro at bossing _me_ around…" he chuckled and closed the door behind him, eager to see who the letter came from, and how it got into his trouser pocket.

***

_Draco, _

_I paid fifty pounds to get this to you! Beaufort's party, I'm sure you already know (He's been talking about it for weeks now) is next Friday at 8:00p.m on the Sylvia Mae. It embarks at 8:30 sharp so...hurry up!_

_Our Cellphone numbers are written below and, if they do confiscate your phone (tough love, mate, I'm sure), we bought one for you. It's in the envelope with this letter. Nice little thing; Easy to hide and all that. It has a GPS system so we can find you. _

_We will have you picked up at 7:00 p.m. because we don't know if your new place is far or not._

_Good luck Drake. See you soon!_

_Harris Winchester_

_P.S. The other Princes say hi and you owe me _big.

Rather than feeling happier than he had been since moving out of the manor, Draco's mood took a big splat. He hated the exile now more than ever. The fact that his friends had to bribe people to get him small things was really flattering, but really pointless. He shouldn't even be there at all.

The Cellphone slipped out of the envelope into his hand. It was a small, light silver phone, obviously more expensive than the whole house he was now living in altogether. He had raised the hand holding it, ready to throw it in his anger.

But he didn't. Really, there was no use now. He sighed, and the fight that had been previously bottled in him escaped, leaving him more depressed than he had been for days.

"Draco, dinner's ready" Brida called from outside.

"I'm not hungry." He said dully, lying on his bed and pulling up the covers before she could say otherwise.

***

_For now, I'm just laying some groundwork. As for the first question (_is there any magic?) _: well, hmm, you'll have to read it really. It might. Tee hee._


End file.
